


The Beak

by ms45



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 15:36:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/599377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ms45/pseuds/ms45
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A gift for Cherith, as thanks for helping me with my fic and a general Crimbo shout-out. Isabela encounters the Arl of Redcliffe at Duke Prosper's party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beak

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cherith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherith/gifts).



Isabela was experienced enough to know that the old fishwives' tale about nose size correlating with trouser monster was nonsense, but she did appreciate a nice beak nevertheless. Since she needed to make her reconnaissance of Duke Prosper's mansion look innocent, engaging the possessor of such a beak seemed the perfect ruse. Especially since Ser Smells-A-Lot looked like he was trapped at a funeral between the Arishok and the Witch of the Wilds.

She bowed deeply, doffing the extravagant hat she had picked up for just such an occasion.  “I see you are familiar with my friend Ser Hawke. Captain Isabela, late of the Sirens' Call.” If he recognised her as the Queen of the Eastern Seas, he gave no sign of it.

“Arl Teagan of Redcliffe. I am delighted to make the acquaintance of any friend of Serah Hawke.” He bowed deeply over her hand, stopping just short of kissing it. “And congratulations on your party's success in the hunt. Will you be taking a trophy?”

Isabela flinched – she had killed hundreds, possibly thousands of humans for gain, revenge or because they lost a fight, but the thought of taking a tail or head of a wyvern seemed insulting, somehow. “It seems the game being hunted here is noble husbands. Do you happen to have one?”

The Arl's face briefly lit with laughter before he smothered it with a gloved hand.

“Regrettably, I am off the market. It was a great disappointment to have to turn down the de Launcet's invitation.” Isabela grinned from under her hat. Alas, an opportunity to pose as the Arl's wife was not to be.


End file.
